


Like a Fucking Lady

by ilokheimsins



Series: Inceptiversary 2017 Bingo [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Arthur punches sexism in the face, Crossdressing, Eames makes terrible innuendo, M/M, alive!Mal AU, and then they rode off into the sunset to blow each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 00:46:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11521005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilokheimsins/pseuds/ilokheimsins
Summary: Arthur crossdresses and shoots things.  Eames holds his flower.





	Like a Fucking Lady

**Author's Note:**

> (5 of 25) of Inceptiversary 2017 Bingo

Ariadne isn’t sure she’s ever seen Arthur this pissed off in the brief time she’s known him.  One quick glance at Yusuf, who’s known Arthur since their ill-fated university days, shows that he’s edging as subtly as he can out of the room, the better to be out of the way when Mount Arthur starts to blow.

“This is all your fault,” Arthur points at Mal accusingly.

Mal waves a hand in his face as if she can wave away Arthur’s concern with a flick of her perfectly painted nails.

“Non, non, oiseau,” Mal says.

“You are a vision,” she says as she pats a powder puff all over Arthur’s face.  He coughs when he doesn’t manage to close his mouth in time.

“I’m in a dress.”

“A vision in a dress,” Mal hums in agreement and then bounces the waves of Arthur’s wig to make sure they are at peak lusciousness.

“I don’t see why Ariadne couldn’t do this,” he grouses, but he lets Mal pet highlighter over his cheekbones and dust the barest hints of bronzer and blush onto his cheeks.

“Ariadne is too…,” Mal scrunches her nose thoughtfully, “hmm.”

“Innocent,” she finally says as she paints lipstick the color of fresh blood onto Arthur’s lips.

Arthur glares at her as best he can with his mouth open as she applies the color delicately.

“Innocent,” he says when she releases him.

“Yes,” Mal says, delighted that he seems to agree. “Yusuf!”

Yusuf winces and looks wistfully at the door, a mere foot away from him, before sighing loudly and turning back to face the room at large.

“Hmm?”

“If you did not know them and you saw Ariadne with Eames, what would you think?”

“He bought her for the night or he’s trafficking her,” Yusuf says without pause and then turns to Arthur to say, “Please don’t kill me.”

Arthur’s face could level cities and Yusuf makes a run for it.  He bumps into Eames on his way out and yells a farewell of some kind before clattering down the metal stairs to freedom.

“The devil on his heels then?” Eames asks and jerks his head towards where there would be a smoke imprint of Yusuf if this were a cartoon.

“Just Arthur,” Cobb says without looking up from the latest Architectural Digest.  Ariadne is a little jealous, she’s heard amazing things about this month’s edition but Cobb called dibs on it as soon as it hit the warehouse mailbox.

“Ah, my lady for the night then?” Eames asks.

Arthur’s murder face turns itself on Eames, who only looks more delighted.

“Darling,” Eames offers his arm out, “let’s go murder people together, shall we?”

“You suck,” Arthur says snippily as he loops his arm around Eames’

“Only after dinner,” Eames replies, ever mild, and smiles wickedly.

***

The party goes swimmingly until the mark’s son puts his hands up the leg slit of Arthur’s dress to grope his arse.  Arthur hauls back and punches him square in the face and then checks his manicure hastily because Mal will kill him if he breaks a nail.

Those around them go silent and Arthur raises a brow at them haughtily.  The mark rushes over, Eames strolling at a more leisurely pace behind him, to check on his son and to glare at Arthur.

“You need to control yourself,” he says hotly.

“Your son needs to learn to keep his hands to himself,” Arthur says, barely remembering to pitch his voice higher, as he accepts a glass of champagne from Eames.

“Is this your woman, Mr. Hardling?” The mark asks Eames as he stands and helps his son up.  “I can introduce you to someone much nicer.  Wildcats like her are only good for the bed and nothing else.  I know several nice young woman who are much better suited for polite society.”

Eames obligingly holds onto Arthur’s champagne glass while sipping on his own.  Arthur sighs, winds up again, and punches the mark.

***

“I think it was a very satisfying night,” Eames says as they’re driving back to the hotel.

“They were sleazebags,” Arthur says.

“Sleazebags you got to punch and then shoot,” Eames points out.

“Hmmm, I guess,” Arthur allows.

“I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?” Eames purrs.

Arthur levels him with a sultry look, eyes dark and liquid under the sharp winged line of his eyeliner and heavy lashes.

“I do believe I was promised some sucking,” he says, red lips parting around a smirk that shows his canines.

“And that, darling, I think I can deliver on.”


End file.
